Thursday, August 11, 2016

Run Lola Run

Run Lola Run
seen @ Celebrate Brooklyn, Prospect Park, Brooklyn NY

This is a story.

Last Thursday I went to Prospect Park's Celebrate Brooklyn festival to see the German movie Run Lola Run. I took the G train. A street musician entered the subway car at the Carroll Street station. He had a violin. Right before he began to play, though, he sat down, holding his stomach. Then he threw up onto an AM New York someone left on the floor.

A pair of guys who looked like they were a couple came over to the musician. They propped his feet up. I heard one of them say he was a med student. He asked the musician questions about his health, who he was, that sort of thing. At the Smith/9th Streets station, the med student's boyfriend ran for the conductor, and sure enough, the train was delayed. There was nothing I could do for the guy, and the med student looked like he had things under control, so I got out and walked to Prospect Park.



AND THEN:
med student graduates 
has less time for boyfriend
boyfriend starts dating co-worker at Urban Outfitters
co-worker does things in bed med student no longer does 
they move in together

Approaching 5th Avenue, I ran into my friend Mike, who I hadn't seen in years. That was partly deliberate. The last time we spoke, we had gotten into a huge fight. I don't wanna get into the details here, but it involved money. I never had the chance to explain my side of the story, and seeing him out of the blue like this (I didn't even know he was back in town) made me want to set the record straight once and for all. He was a good friend once. I missed him.

We went to a cafe. I bought drinks for both of us. We sat down and talked for awhile. It turned out he was led to believe something about me by a third party that wasn't true. He was relieved to learn otherwise, and I was just as relieved to finally clear the air.

We hugged and promised to get together again for a proper night out. I couldn't believe my luck in seeing him again.

I arrived at the Bandshell in time for the movie, though I missed the musical guest. I had to find a spot on the grass behind the seats. It was a little uncomfortable, but it's a short movie, so I didn't have to do it for long.

Lola was scored live by a band called the Bays; three guys from the UK. Apparently it took seven years to get them to do a CB show. They weren't the Alloy Orchestra but they were good. Their fast, rhythmic sound suited the frenetically edited, relentless pace of the movie. I liked them.

I didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning because of construction on the E train. My good mood from the night evaporated. I walked in, grabbed a bite to eat and went to bed.

Then again... maybe it didn't happen that way.

Let me start over.

This is a story.

Last Thursday, I went to Prospect Park's Celebrate Brooklyn festival to see the German movie Run Lola Run. I took the G train. A street musician entered the subway car at the Carroll Street station. He had a violin.



He played Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" as the train rose above ground and towards the Smith/9th Streets station high above the Gowanus Canal. The sun was shining. A pair of guys who looked like they were a couple snuggled close. I gazed out over Brooklyn, the expressway to my right and the Manhattan skyline to my left, and I thought the musician's selection was appropriate for the moment. I gave him a dollar. He thanked me and moved on.

I walked up 9th Street to the park entrance. I crossed Prospect Park West and stepped onto the pedestrian island beside the bike lane. A southbound biker riding a cargo bike flew by. I crossed the lane and entered the park.

As I did, an Asian mother with her baby in a stroller came up to me, clutching her cellphone. She wanted directions to Purity Diner on 7th Avenue. I knew the place; I had eaten there on several occasions. I told her how to get there. She thanked me and moved on.
AND THEN: 
mother meets sister at dinner 
tearfully tells sister of abusive husband 
moves in with sister 
husband tracks her down and bangs on apartment door 
sister calls cops and they haul him away
The evening started out great. The musical guest was someone named Joan as Police Woman. That sounds like a band's name, but it was one woman. She didn't look like Angie Dickinson to me but she was still pretty hot. She played keyboard and guitar. She was accompanied by Benjamin Lazar Davis and his band. Their music was straight-up rock, more or less. They were all right.

During the intermission, I stood on line for a port-o-potty. These two guys were in front of me. One carried a beer. They were talking and laughing. I wasn't paying attention. Suddenly, the guy with the beer backs up into me as he's laughing and spills his beer on my shirt and pants! Then he has the nerve to tell me to watch where I'm going! I argued. His friend tried to play peacemaker but failed.

Next thing I knew, Beer Guy and me started fighting! We were on the dusty ground, wrestling and kicking and punching. Security came and tossed us both out of the Bandshell area. I tried to tell them my bag was still inside but they wouldn't let me get it. I missed the movie and went home furious.

Then again... maybe it didn't happen that way either.

Let me start over.

This is a story.

Last Thursday, I went to Prospect Park's Celebrate Brooklyn festival to see the German movie Run Lola Run. I took the G train. A street musician entered the subway car at the Carroll Street station. He had a violin.

He played Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" as the train rose above ground and towards the Smith/9th Streets station high above the Gowanus Canal. The sun was shining. A pair of guys who looked like they were a couple snuggled close. I gazed out over Brooklyn, the expressway to my right and the Manhattan skyline to my left, and I thought his selection was appropriate for the moment. I gave him a dollar. He thanked me and moved on.



I walked up 9th Street to the park entrance. I crossed Prospect Park West and stepped onto the pedestrian island beside the bike lane. A southbound biker riding a cargo bike rang his bell at an Asian mother standing in the lane with her baby in a stroller, checking her cellphone. The biker tried to brake but he wasn't in time and he knocked her down, almost falling off the bike himself. Neither one was hurt but they yelled pretty angrily at each other. The baby gurgled and played with a plush yellow Minion doll. I moved on.
AND THEN: 
biker pulls up to a deli 
buys a Gatorade and a lottery ticket 
sits down to scratch ticket 
wins $2500 
uses it to pay next month's rent
The evening was great. The musical guest was someone named Joan as Police Woman. That sounds like a band's name but it was one woman. She didn't look like Angie Dickinson to me but she was still pretty hot. She played keyboard and guitar. She was accompanied by Benjamin Lazar Davis and his band. Their music was straight-up rock, more or less. They were all right.

Lola was scored live by a band called the Bays; three guys from the UK. Apparently it took seven years to get them to do a CB show. They weren't the Alloy Orchestra but they were good. Their fast, rhythmic sound suited the frenetically edited, relentless pace of the movie. I liked them.

I didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning because of construction on the E train. My good mood from the night evaporated. I walked in, grabbed a bite to eat and went to bed.

Then again... maybe it didn't happen that way either.

Let me start over.

This is a story...



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